24-Hours
by Glitterylola
Summary: Vince wanted to spice up his number #1 show, Monday Night Raw and the perfect idea on how to do that was to put a 24-hour free for all on the WWE championship belt. Now the whole WWE roster is after John Cena, dragging a referee not too far behind.


Somewhere in the 2000's, Monday Night Raw

* * *

It was a regular night on Monday night Raw. John Cena had finished his match for the night and now was refreshing himself in the locker room.

Throwing his dirty clothes in his locker, he slammed it shut.

"Cena." A voice suddenly came from behind him.

Turning around, Chris Jericho stood in the way, addressing John.

"Did you hear about the little 24-hour rule Vince put on your title belt, Champ?" Jericho smirked.

"And lemme guess," Cena started, picking up his belt. "You want me to lay down for you so you can get the ol' 1,2,3 on me and become the new WWE champion?"

"I don't need you to lay down for me, jackass!" Jericho pointed a finger in Cena's face.

"Chris, it looks like you need a little lesson from the doctor of Thuganomics." Cena put down his belt carefully before charging at Jericho, throwing dozens of punches.

"Arrgh!" Jericho knelt to the ground, out of it.

Taking a chance, Cena picked up a nearby chair, folding it up he whacked Jericho smack dead on the forehead.

With Chris Jericho knocked out, John grabbed his belt. "This lesson was free, but ya gotta pay next time!" He yelled before running from the locker room.

"John!" He heard a woman yell far down the corridor. Cena whirled around to see who it belonged to.

It was Lita.

"John," she started. "John, I know I've been a bad girl in the past. But, I'll make it worth your while if you just let me take the WWE belt off you..." Lita flirted.

Cena gave her a look. "Bitch, I didn't become the WWE champion from getting diseases! So, take your hoe ass and go back to supplying Santa with his catchphrases!"

"Arrrgh!" He heard Lita growl as Cena ran out of the building.

Shaking his head, John walked out of the arena. "These hoes ain't loyal Johnny Boy." He muttered under his breath.

* * *

Meanwhile Triple H, the Game of the WWE, overheard the commotion and headed over to tell his teammate and friend, Shawn Michaels.

Triple H, backstage, stood in front of Shawn's "beauty" room and knocked.

"Hey man, you got a minute? This is important." Hunter talked to the door.

"More important than eyeliner? I need to strike the love into the ladies' soul." Shawn replied, while posing in front of his mirror.

"Eyeliner?" A confused look appeared on Triple H's face. "Well, I like to thin-"

"They need to FEEL THIS ENERGY!" Shawn yelled, doing a pelvic thrust on each word.

"Open the damn door!"

Shawn sighed, walking over to the door and opening it.

Triple H pushed past him. "Look, I heard John Cena and Chris Jericho talking about the WWE belt being put on a 24-hour free for all."

"What? When did that get put into motion?!" Shawn asked, bewildered.

"I dunno, I guess just now. I don't know half the things that happens in this damn company anymore. We're going after it. But- "Hunter turned to face Shawn. "We need to get rid of the competition."

Shawn Michael's nodded as he and Triple H headed for the locker room.

Reaching the locker room, Triple H and HBK walked in. The locker room was empty, all except for one superstar, Cm Punk.

"Heyyy, Punky Pie." Triple H smirked, leaning on one of the lockers.

"What." Punk asked, while tying up the last lace on his boots.

"I have a favor to ask."

"Look, _Hunter._ I don't give a damn that your Stephanie McMahon's husband. I ain't doing YOU or anybody else favors!" Punk stood up, refusing.

With Punk heading for the door, Shawn Michaels suddenly hit him with Sweet chin music. Punk hit the floor, knocked out cold.

"Shawn!" Triple H gasped.

"I'm sorry, Hunter! I spaz out sometimes. But at least I have a chance at John Cena now." HBK smiled.

"Shawn.." HHH ran his hand over his face. "He was going to be in our alliance!"

"OH!" HBK gasped, looking down to the unconscious Punk then back at HHH.

They both shrugged and walked over Cm Punk, leaving him in the locker room.

* * *

Leaving the arena, John Cena reached his car, opening the door he threw his belt in. But before he could jump in, he was thrown against it.

John hit the car door with a thud and fell to the ground. Shaking the dizziness away, he looked up to see his attacker. "..Kurt Angle...?"

"Oh, it's true! Its DAMN true!" Kurt Angle recited his catchphrase, as he made another grab at Cena, but he was too slow.

Cena counter-blocked him, punching him in the face.

"It ain't true today, Kurt!" Cena waved his hand in front of his face, _'you can't see me!'_ Pulling Kurt up, he performed the Attitude Adjustment on him.

With Kurt down, Cena jumped in his car and quickly drove away.

* * *

Injured Cm Punk woke up from the blitz attack, holding his head.

"Geez! What the hell was that for?!" He growled.

He then stumbled his way out of the locker room searching for, "D-generation X."

While out in the halls, he came across Rey Mysterio. "Hey! Have you seen a metal head in a speedo and a drag queen model that's yey high?" Punk questioned.

Rey gave a blank stare for a few seconds. "Dude, I have no idea what you're tal-"Before he could finish his sentence he was hoisted in the air against the wall, with Punk's hand on his throat.

Mysterio grabbed at his throat struggling to breath.

"Look here Mexican midget, I have a splitting headache from a kick to the head because two dumb asses decided to ambush me for no reason! So, if you could please tell me if you've seen Shawn Michaels or Triple H around here, that would be great." Punk explained.

"Why didn't you just say that, ese?!" Rey coughed.

Punk released the hold on Rey's neck, as Rey slid down he wall.

"You know there are easier ways to do things, ya know?" The masked wrestler rubbed his red neck.

"Well I prefer the hard way." Punk growled.

"I bet." Rey joked, but quickly straightened his face up. "I saw them head towards the parking lot." He pointed.

"Thanks." The straight-edger muttered as he headed for the doors.

Punk marched to the parking lot. He looked around, not seeing HBK or Triple H anywhere. He scanned each car carefully, until he landed on a superstar far in the distance.

Punk knew it wasn't those D-Generation asses judging by the outfit, but he stomped over there anyways.

"Hey!" He yelled at the wrestler, it was Kurt Angle sipping on some milk. "Have you seen Triple H and his dumbass side kick?!"

Kurt ignored him, chugging on his milk carton.

Punk grabbed it. "Hey, I asked you a question!" He growled, crushing it.

"Hey, hey! I need that milk for protein!" Kurt tried to grab it back.

"I'm gonna take this milk and shove it up your ass!" Cm Punk threatened as he chucked the carton at Angle.

"Punk! I see you've woken from your beauty sleep." Triple H smiled, as he made his way over to the two with HBK not too far behind.

"Oh," Punk smiled. "It was nice while it lasted, you know maybe you need to take a little rest too. Wanna go to sleep?" He cracked his knuckles.

"Relax Punk." Michaels put his hands up. "We aren't here for you, while it's fun to beat on ya a little bit; we're actually looking for Cena."

"Cena, he was just here a minute ago. I attacked him, but he got me with the Attitude Adjustment.." Kurt shook his head.

"Where is he now?" HHH asked.

"He drove off, I guess to his house. Maybe he thinks he's safe there." Kurt shrugged.

"Why are you guys going after Cena?" Punk interrupted.

"His belt is on a 24-hour free for all. Any of us can pin him anywhere, anytime. Of course, as long as there is a referee nearby. And whoever has the belt after that time limit is up, will become the new WWE champion." Triple H explained.

"Well," Cm Punk smiled. "I guess we're going hunting for a jackass named Cena." He rubbed his hands together.

 **Hey, guys! This is just a short little wrestling fanfic that I'm writing with my friend. We aren't hardcore fans or anything so forgive me if some of the moves, finishers are incorrect. Anyways hope you enjoy, don't forget to review! :D**


End file.
